


A Dream of Reality

by TheConceptionist



Category: Original Work
Genre: Existentialism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25990498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheConceptionist/pseuds/TheConceptionist
Summary: Dreams are a very strange thing. Especially when they aren't.
Kudos: 3





	A Dream of Reality

All humans are born to dream. They dream of grand aspirations, of nonsensical fantasies, of nothing but something better than where they are, or perhaps something worse. Some humans don’t dream, and desire nothing but their own stream of consciousness to continue until life deems that it shouldn’t anymore. However, even stranger still, there are those that dream of reality.

These people have the power of dreaming without any grandeur; it’s akin to stepping into an alternate reality. They close their eyes and, instead of seeing extravagance, see their eyes open again. A proverbial superposition of the mind, where vision is both occluded and sharp, filling in as if nothing has changed. The mind tells of sensations that don’t happen, of objects that weren’t moved, just to pretend that one isn’t wasting away. A dream like any other, eyes closed and open, mind awake and asleep. Stuck, yet able to move. This state is paradoxical, yet inevitable for some.

These people never get the saving grace of an escape to some world that is better than themselves, nor do they get the security of knowing they cannot escape at all. These people are condemned to a veritable limbo of the mind, stuck only dreaming of what they last saw. These people are saddled with the dread of wishing your mind would whisk you away, merely just to have it chain them down further. A short-lasting torment of normalcy before the normalcy, with only the slightest of discrepancies to even notify of their state. 

What’s fiction is real. What’s real is real. Fiction never lives alone.

What would happen if these people were to transcend their border? What could happen if they could move in their dream of reality? They would finally be able to separate themselves, severing mind from flesh and giving themselves the power of the mundane all over again, leaving themself alone to dream of a world they never left.

How many layers deep would they be? How many minds before them dreamt of being awake and woke up, only to dream again? How many minds float, wishing for nothing but to be separated from a body they’ve already long since left behind?

Who’s to say that any one of us currently awake is but a dream of a mind wishing for reality?


End file.
